Indiana Jones and the Sapphire Blade
by Miss Andromeda Prime
Summary: What do women, a long forgotten blade, and history all have in common? Answer: they all cut straight to the heart of archaeologist and adventurer Indiana Jones! There's adventure-and perhaps something else-on the horizon. Indy races against the clock-and across the globe-in search for the weapon of a century, he has nothing more to do than watch his back-and his heart!


Notes:

Argus C3 (aka - the Brick), 35mm rangefinder camera, c1939

_Indiana Jones and the Sapphire Blade_

Prologue

_Annabelle_

Her boots hit the gravel and slid slightly against the loose stones, tossing up a dust cloud and scattering sand and pebbles. She wasted no time and took off into foliage of the jungle, palm branches and ferns and vines all reaching for a touch of the outside world her presence provided.

It was nearly 100 or so degrees in this hemisphere, and perspiration instantly dotted on her brow and trickled between her shoulders. Her chest cavity began to burn, and a stitch began to form in her side. Her Argus C3 camera bobbed against her hip as she dodged fallen logs and rocks. The Colombian jungle of Cartagena wasn't a new habitat for her, and she looked to her right for the tattered white ribbon of sheet she'd tied around a huge tropical tree. Yes, this place was familiar.

A gunshot fired roughly 200 yards behind her. It didn't surprise the photojournalist one bit, she knew they'd be onto her as soon as she and the noon watch locked lenses-his binoculars with her Argus. After that she'd hurled herself out of the tree she'd been nesting in all day and took off down the familiar trail back towards the awaiting military vehicle.

She cursed herself for forgetting her handgun. All she had was her knife, which couldn't stand a chance against a handgun or Tommy. Ducking under a huge fern leaf, she heard the roar of an engine behind her and stopped. Whirling around, she watched as the treetops behind her danced with the intruder. Her heart sank as she heard the crunch of foliage and downing of smaller trees. They'd taken a vehicle into the dense foliage and were tearing it down in pursuit.

She sucked in a breath and placed a hand over the stitch in her side and took off again, shouldering passed vines and shrubs. Little scrapes had formed all over her arms and hands and were stinging with sweat. Bugs swarmed around her head and her shoulder-length hair stuck to her neck and cheeks. Another gunshot behind her, and now she heard their screams and hollers ring out behind her. They were coming way faster than she was going, and she had no choice but to veer off the trail. She glanced at her watch. It'd been twelve minutes and thirty seconds.

The heart slamming in her chest pounded against her ribs it felt like, and sent blood pumping through her ears. Her body burned, begging for rest, and she checked her surroundings. She didn't see anything familiar, but noted that she was roughly 20 yards from the trail. A monkey chattered above her, and she stopped. Dropping low, she hurried behind a huge fern bush and huddled within its leaves, gathering her breath. She sat there, very still, for about five minutes until she saw the vehicle putter to a stop.

She breathed through her mouth to quiet her heart. Her lungs began to settle as men began to pile from the truck. A man in a open, mauve colored button down and khaki trousers jumped out of the passenger side, a Tommy gun braced against his arm. Her slicked back black hair and trimmed goatee gave him away instantly: Emilio Perez, a man with a reputation as long as her film roll. Emilio was well known for his San Hosea getaway and the pillaging of several villages in this very area. But, mostly he was known for his payment to his men-huge quantities of cocaine. They did his business for him, which was incredibly filthy and low.

He was actually the reason she was here. Annabelle Racely, or better known as "Belle Allen" for the Bedford Daily, was a photojournalist for the Connecticut newspaper which could barely afford her reputation, much less her salary. She's been following international smugglers all around the globe: oil in the Middle East, drugs in Latin America, and Opium in Asia, among other things. She'd documented paleontological digs, archeological successes, and documented AIDS, malaria, and other STD's on several continents. She was hugely requested, and had won numerous awards for her pieces.

Lately, though, she'd been drawn into a new field of interest: ancient historical artifact black-marketing. She referred to them as AHAB's, and Emilio ranked high among them. They were the men who dived their investments into finding treasures lost to civilization and selling them on the black markets for exorbitant amounts of money. Most often after exposing them with evidence in print, they were promptly arrested and imprisoned. It was a good thing she used an alias, for "fan" mail came in all shapes, sizes, colors, and ways. Annabelle was wanted by more than one AHAB, and internationally too.

Emilio was the Latin American of the AHABs-he'd made his millions selling artifacts from the Incas and Mayans, pillaging the ruins and selling them to the Chinese, Mexicans, and Persians. As of late he'd taken to a new type of artifact, one called the La Piedra de Araña-the "Spider Stone". Rumored to have a mythical cure for the venom of the Brazilian Wandering Spider, it was dated back as far as the Incas, perhaps farther. It was immensely popular with the people for its fables and entertaining stories. If found, it promised millions to the owner and a cure the world had never seen. Emilio had been searching for the Stone for 10 years, and Annabelle had been following him for 2 of those 10. He'd traveled as far as the Middle East for interpretation of hieroglyphics and languages unknown to most of the population. From what she was able to gather, he'd spent close to four million dollars trying to find it, and now he had.

The men dispersed and he shouted at them in English. "I want her back here, alive!" He tossed the cigar from him mouth aside and spit out another order to the men. "Bring him down here!" He gestured to the truckbed, and instantly a blindfolded man was shoved over the side and into the ground.

Annabelle scanned her surroundings. Her best bet was above them, so she quietly began to crawl military-style towards the tallest, thickest tree she could find. Grabbing onto its mossy trunk, she began to scale it, careful that there wasn't any animals to give her away.

About ten feet off the ground she swung herself onto the thick branch and squatted there. She was behind Emilio now, the man blindfolded kneeling before him, hands tied behind his back. He was dusty, scathed with sunburn, and slick with sweat. He wore a dust-stricken fedora with a wide brim, and a brown A-2 jacket. His knees were grinding into the dirt, and he breathed heavily. Annabelle watched, silently, as Emilio stood before him and brought the Tommy gun around. Emilio shifted his weight and the man kneeling brought his chin up to glare at him in the face.

He was rugged she noted. Very rugged; and seasoned. Tanned, from the sun, with a strong jaw and two day unshaved stubble making itself very at home along his face. His dark eyes-she was assuming brown-matched his darker hair, which was appropriately smothered in that fedora. Blood trickled from his nose, mouth, and from a wide gash above his eye. His sweat was mixed with dirt, giving him a darker complexion that he probably had. So, he was a thick chested, rugged looking adventurer? Hm.

Annabelle parted the frawns of the tree to peek out. Emilio leveled the Tommy gun with the man's face and was saying something, causing the American looking man to spit up at him. Emilio took a step back, swiped at his face, and Annabelle chuckled. She checked her watch. Twenty minutes and fifteen seconds.

"Right about now, Elena, right about now..."

And, on cue, a rip of a choked engine and slipped clutch tore throughout the jungle's dense forestry. Annabelle looked south, to where a heard of screeching monkey's and flapping fowl hit the hair in a colorful and noisy array. Plants and trees bobbed and hit the earth with a crunch as a deep green military Jeep roared into the scene. Gunfire spit to life from the passenger side as the Jeep made a quick turn and the driver bailed out, slipping in the loose dirt and rolling under the car and to the other side for safety. Perfect.

* * *

_Indiana_

"And you, Dr. Jones, appear to gain nothing from this adventure of yours. You lose your treasure, your friends, and now, you lose your life." A smirk hit his face. "Any last words, Dr. Jones?"

Indy sneered at the man and squared his shoulder. "As a matter of fact-"

_WHAAAAAA!_

The deafening roar of an engine and slipping clutch hit the jungle air. Birds and monkeys flapped and screeched in every direction as downed trees hit the earth, crushed and eaten beneath the tires of civilization. Indiana Jones was briefly surprised, as was his captor, and fell back onto his backside. Taking the opportunity to seize the moment, he rolled back on his shoulders, kicked his feet up and knocked the Tommy from Emilio's hands. It was flying and landed into the thick brush a few feet away.

Emilio took a few startled steps to the left, slammed into the truck, and whirled around. Indy used his wrists to suppress his weight and noted the military Jeep arrive on the scene. It made a quick turn and the driver bailed out, rolling beneath the vehicle securely to the other side. Gunfire exploded from the passenger side, and he saw two feet hit the stony ground and take cover behind the tires.

He wasted no time, however. Emilio charged him and he got up quickly, sidestepping the man as he darted head first into some jungle ferns. Indy noted a few soldiers firing at the Jeep, where return fire was rapidly spitting from around the vehicle. Only one word slammed into his brain: getaway. First, however, he needed that Stone.

Well, before he needed the stone, he needed his hands _free. _Emilio had gathered himself now and pulled a huge bowie knife from his side holster, charging him like a mad-man as gunfire continued. Indy ducked once and dipped to the left, around the vehicle as bullets whizzed past his head. He continued to duck the swings Emilio made at him until Emilio was sent falling to the ground, screaming. Indy realized as the man hit the earth that blood poured from the man's mouth, and a rock the size of a golf ball lay beside his head. He wrinkled his brow as Emilio tried to compose himself, lazily rolling on the ground, moaning.

Always one for seizing an opportunity, he rounded around the truck and caught sight of a loose screw. He slammed his back into the truck and began to try to catch the rope on his binds. Sweat began pouring into his eyes as he was getting nowhere, ever minding the intense gunfire.

Apparently two of the soldiers now realized it did not take five men to hold off two guns, so they doubled back and headed towards him. His eyes widened as they came, bearing guns, heading towards him. He cursed the binds that wouldn't loosen and dropped to his haunches, diving his body headfirst into some leafy ferns. As he righted himself, his shoulder struck a huge rock and he grimaced, diving behind it for security.

"What did he do? Weld this rope on?" He huffed, rapidly shifting his shoulders trying to loosen the binds. No such luck.

Then, as he heard the guns cock, he also heard a brief cry, followed by a groan and then a Elenad thud. Then there was a grunt, a clang as if someone had slammed into the truck's hood, and a muffled cry, followed by a brief spit of gunfire. Confused, Indy dared a look out from behind his rock and between the leafy fronds. He was shocked as he met another confused face, which caused them both to grunt and fall backwards.

He was astonished, really, to see a woman use her wrist to swipe at the corner of her mouth. She stared at him and he at her, both taking a moment to realize each other. She had a camera swaying by her side, and a leather satchel at her other, and shoulder length brown curls that were sodden from the humidity. She was slick with shining sweat, and a streak of dirt ran across her face. Surprisingly, also, she wore glasses that were crooked on her face-ultimately she was a strange sight here in this place.

"Let me help you," she stated in perfect English. She brought her right knee up and reached inside her boot, grabbing a knife and moving aside a frond with her other arm. She was breathing heavily and dropped to her knees beside him and grabbed his shoulder, turning his body so she faced his back. With a quick swipe and tug he was free, and he straightened his jacket collar.

"Thanks," he gave her a grateful nod. "Your people with the Jeep?"

She nodded and replaced the knife. "Uh-huh. I take it your an unwelcome guest on this little vacation, giving the fact you were almost blown away."

He checked his surroundings and decided leaving the brush was a good idea. In two strides he was at the truck's door and he swung it open, spotting his Kangaroo hide bullwhip, his Webley, and satchel. Snatching the items, he paused to look at the men laying unconscious, two of the three dead. Gunfire continued popping around them. He looked at her and continued, "You could say that."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down behind the tire. Then, he slowly rose, and glanced over the hood of the truck. Emilio was up, staggering, a very swollen jaw snapping orders to the men to continue firing. He checked the Jeep, now showered with bullet holes, to see two heads taking their aim as Emilio's men scattered to reload. Emilio came dashing behind the truck, and stopped when he caught sight of them. He instantly glanced at the woman, who sneered at him.

Obviously unarmed, he pointed at her and spit the words harshly from his swollen mouth. "You, you've been spying on me since Morocco! Give me that camera!" He gestured for it and then reached behind his back, pulling out a revolver. He leveled it with her head and Indy took half a step back. Her eyes widened but she dug her feet into the earth in protest.

"No."

He stepped towards her, and aimed the gun into the air and triggered it. It spit to life and the gunfire around them ceased.

"Give it to me, Allen, or no one dies." He shot a look to Jones. "And you," he jabbed his other finger into Indy's chest, "I didn't think you had it in you to bring backup."

Indy gave a confused look at her and she returned it. "She's not with me. I still work alone, Emilio. You know that." He shied back half a step as the revolver came around to his forehead. The cool steel touched his skin and Emilio glanced at the girl again. "Out there, in front of your Jeep, Miss Allen. Nice and slow now."

She shot Indy a glance. He tipped his chin up, and she complied-obviously unwilling to sacrifice a stranger's life. Indy glanced at her as she turned, slowly making her approach to the "inner" belly of their ring of fire here, and noted the camera sway against her hip. An Argus C3-she was a journalist, or photographer.

They stopped center ring and the cool barrel left Indy's forehead. It leveled back on her again and she seized the camera in her tight grip. She glared at him with every muscle in her face as Emilio reached for the strap around her body. she stood there, as he cocked the weapon, and he gently untangled the strap from her bob. Instantly he slung it over his shoulders and chuckled. "There. See how easy that was?"

"Don't lose that," she spat, 'I'll need it."

He laughed. "You? You won't be going anywhere, Miss Allen." he spat something in Spanish and his men instantly circled around them. "Neither of you will be getting out of this jungle. At least not alive." Guns leveled at them from the two conscious soldiers. Emilio lowered his weapon and headed towards the Jeep. He chuckled as the two figures slowly rose from behind the Jeep, aim locked on the man in mauve.

"Now, please. Lower the weapon or I kill them both."

* * *

_Elena_

Elena Gonzalez shifted her gaze between the man in the pink shirt and he friend behind him, two automatic weapons leveled at her head. The stranger beside her glanced her way, and she instantly recognized him. Shocked, but not surprised, she lowered her weapons slightly to get a better look at him. She wrinkled her brow and then brought he aim instantly back up as the man in pink glanced over his shoulder.

This is not what she and Annabelle had planned. A simple in-and-out shoot, an hour at most. She was to wait with the Jeep twenty minutes-no more-for Annabelle, and if she hadn't returned in twenty minutes, she was to haul that Jeep down the trail in her direction, as if hell was to pay. Well, fifteen seconds passed twenty minutes, she hauled her Jeep into the dense forest from the marked trail and found this happy little fiesta.

They-she and their gunman, Alejandro-had swapped metal with this group of bandits almost twenty minutes until she spotted Annabelle catch up with that other American after taking the three soldiers down easily. Stupid warriors, these Argentinean's. Probably sky-high on their cocaine payments, as Annabelle stated.

And Emilio-she recognized him. Drug lord extraordinaire, AHAB master, billionaire playboy of the Latin Americas. He was as filthy as he was rich, and she'd rued the day hundreds of times she'd meet him. And that day had come, and the snake had the upper hand now. Outgunned, she quickly decided that lowering the weapons would be the best bet, if she wanted to see her best friend again.

So, she tossed the weapon on the hood of the Jeep and raised her hands. Alejandro followed suit, though confused.

"Excellent," Emilio stated charmingly, "since we're all strangers here, and I'm rather confused as to how and why you all are here in my jungle, let's introduce ourselves, shall we?" He spun on his heel as a soldier staggered from behind the truck, an automatic weapon at his flimsy grasp. Emilio pointed at her and Alejandro, and then the gun was raised at them as he circled around their Jeep. He nudged the barrel of the weapon towards Annabelle and the other man, and they fell in line, her beside the American and Alejandro, Annabelle on the end next to the man she looked over.

"Dr. Jones," she chuckled, "fancy seeing you here."

He rolled his eyes. "Dr. Gonzalez," he huffed, sweat rolling down his temple. "I didn't think you got into such trouble."

Annabelle shot her a disgusted look. "You know this guy?"

Elena nodded. "Yep. Dr. Indiana Jones, Marshall College. He teaches there." She raised her hands behind her head. "We've chatted a few times, huh, Jones?"

Indy said nothing, just stared ahead, realizing the predicament of the situation. Emilio chuckled and paced before them. "Well, it seems we have a little bit of a party going on here, don't we?"

All four of them gave their attention to the man in the pink shirt, even his soldiers. He smiled, cupped his hands behind his back and nodded towards the truck. "I have the perfect place for such a gathering. Load them up, and make it fast." Apparently some of them spoke English, instantly two hands grabbed Elena that had not originally been behind her. They roughly hauled them towards the Jeeps.

Elena noticed Emilio take the film from Annabelle's camera as he picked up an automatic weapon. He stuffed the film roll into his breast-pocket, as two men loaded into the Jeep and turned it around. She was slammed against the bed of the truck as Alejandro and Annabelle were tied-again-and forced into the bed. She glanced at Indy and chuckled. "No wonder you're so insanely popular with girls. Your get-up there looks straight out of the movies."

He snorted. "Your outfit doesn't do you any justices either, Doctor."

She resisted slightly when they began tying her hands in front of her roughly. "At least I don't look like Roy Rogers."

"Just Amelia Earhart." He scoffed. Then, they both were hauled up into the truck bed. Elena was shoved forward past Annabelle and Alejandro, who looked petrified as much as he did confused. Annabelle shot her a look as she plopped down to the left, next to Indy. Both truck doors thumped closed, and the engine roared to life. Within moments, they were bobbing through the jungle.

"So now what?" Elena asked.

Indy interjected, "We need the Stone."

"What we need," Elena started, "is to get off this bandwagon. Any ideas so far anyone?"

Annabelle began wiggling her shoulders. "These are tight," she humphed, "But I have a knife in my boot if I can get it out." She raised her leg and began shaking it. The knife hit the ground with a clunk and Indy's face brightened. He turned his body and began reaching for the handle, until they hit a huge bump in and sent them all into the air. The knife slid forward, and Elena stomped her foot down to catch it. She slid it back towards Indy carefully.

Within moments Indy had it in his fingers. Annabelle turned her body and they pressed their backs together. He began working the knife and she leaned forward to taunt the ropes. He straightened his head and looked forward, and she rested her head against his. "I don't think we were formally introduced," he stated nonchalantly.

"Annabelle. Annabelle Racely," she said fast.

"Racely?" his tone was confused.

"Belle Allen is a penname," she whispered. The ropes began to weaken, until she could pull them free from her hands. Instantly she was on her knees, grabbed the knife and sliced through his binds. He shot to his haunches and began making his way from the bed of the truck to the cab. Soon Alejandro and Elena were free, and Annabelle replaced the knife.

Elena watched carefully as Indy cleared the bed, stepping onto the running boards of the truck, holding tightly to the handle. Alejandro asked the next question. "What now?"

"I dunno..."

A manly shriek interrupted her thoughts. She spun around to see the driver of the truck hit the ground behind them and roll, motionless now. Indy slid into the cab of the truck and she heard a fist collide with skin. Annabelle jumped in her place and began to make her way out of the truck bed and towards the passenger side window. The truck began to swerve and roll over huge rocks, tossing Alejandro and Elena off balance. Annabelle slipped from the bed, grabbing onto the handle, and her body slammed against the cab.

"What are you doing!?" Elena screeched, "You're going to kill yourself!"

"Someone needs to drive this thing!" she hollered.

The horn blared hard.

Glass erupted from Annabelle's side, and she watched as the Jeep ahead of them slowed. It moved to the left and hit the brakes, until in line of the truck. Vines and branches attacked Annabelle, until she was able to slip through the passenger window, leaving Elena and Alejandro by themselves.

Soldiers from the Jeep spat out at them in Spanish, bringing a handgun around. Elena and Alejandro dived to the bed of the truck, pressed up against the sides, and felt the vibrations of the gun spit to life against the metal. Soon they were quieted, and she realized the men had to reload. She popped up and checked the distance between the two vehicles.

It wasn't bad, jumping distance at least. Exhaling a sharp breath, she closed her eyes and brought one foot up on the side of the bed, the other flat on the floor. Inhaling, she pushed herself off and went sailing through the air, flying for a brief moment. The truck swerved to the right, and the Jeep towards her, until she collided with the top of the Jeep with a hard clank. Grabbing onto the luggage rack for dear life. The truck swerved left again, slamming into the side of the Jeep, sending them rocking on two tires before it leveled. Within seconds, Alejandro was beside her.

"You loco!" He screamed at her. She just laughed and peered over the top of the Jeep to stare the drivers in the face of the windshield. Their eyes locked and the soldiers' almost popped out of their heads. Elena spotted the handgun come up, and she scrunched into a ball as glass shattered and went flying around them. Alejandro tapped her on the shoulder and jerked his thumb towards the back of the Jeep. She got his idea and nodded.

Swinging herself around, her legs dipped over the edge of the Jeep and into the now nonexistent windshield. Instantly she was yanked down between the two soldiers. Once situated, she grabbed the one behind the head and slammed his face into the wheel, the other she slammed her elbow into his face. He went flailing, and the Jeep swerved. Bending her fingers, she dug her nails into the driver's face and pulled, leaving scrapes across his face and over his eyes. He screamed, let go of the wheel, and the other she raised her leg and kicked him. The bullet littered window gave out as his weight pressed against it.

Elena lunged for the passenger, tackling him and throwing her fists into his face. A hard pain resounded between her shoulder blades as a punch from the driver landed there and she flattened over the passenger soldier. Looking up, she reached for the door handle and yanked it, causing the door to fly open. The driver grabbed her ankles and pushed her forward, the man below her going with her.

_Crud!_

They came closer to the open door, and she reached up, grabbing for the frame of the Jeep window. With a final shove, the passenger soldier went flying out the Jeep and was gone. chuckling, she spotted Alejandro drop into the back of the Jeep, and she spun herself around, using her feet to stable herself on the seat. The driver glared at her and lunged forward, put she raised her feet and kicked him in the face. He fell against his door also, and the window cracked.

Now fully in the Jeep, she attacked him and began clawing his face with one hand, the other on the wheel, trying unsuccessfully to steer the Jeep. It roared and slammed into the truck, the man flailing at her and pulling at her long, raven locks. She screeched and released both, him chuckling. Lunging for her, he stopped as two hands grabbed his right arm and yanked him into the backseat. He screams faded under the roar of the Jeep, as Elena scrambled into the driver's seat and took the wheel. Slamming the clutch, she popped it into the appropriate gear and steadied the vehicle.

She glanced right, Indy taking a forceful punch in the jaw and tumbling towards the passenger side window as the truck swerved.

* * *

_Indiana_

His jaw burned with pain as he collided with the passenger window. Emilio was on him instantly, reaching back to slam another fist into his face. Indy reached up and blocked the blow, raising his knee into the man's lower gut. He winced and Indy used his hands to throw the man off of him. He flew through the cab briefly before landing on Annabelle, who screamed and sent the truck swerving again, throwing Indy off balance.

Annabelle socked her fist into Emilio's temple, then shoved him off of her. His leg caught the clutch stick, sending the engine whirring and slowly. Annabelle corrected the problem and spotted the Jeep, then jerked the wheel to the right. Emilio went soaring, and slammed against Indy's body.

Indy was instantly on the man, flattening him on the bench seat and slamming a pair of knuckles into his jaw. He repeatedly did so until Annabelle swerved the car again, Indy reaching inside Emilio's breast pocket and yanking out the film. Emilio flailed for the object, and Indy used his other hand to push the man's head into the seat.

Annabelle flashed him a look that read 'don't lose that' and he stuffed it into his breast pocket. Grabbing Emilio's shirt, he pulled the man inches from his face and growled the next words his brain had been echoing all day: "Where's the Stone."

"Like I would tell you!" Emilio laughed. Annabelle made a face and swerved again, sending the two slamming into the passenger's door. Emilio seized a chance and now toppled Indy, popping the door latch and letting the door swing wide. It collided with a huge tree and tore off the hinges, gone. Emilio seized Indy's neck and began to squeeze.

Indy's throat muscles began to seize, and he sputtered for air. Every muscle within him tightened and his chest flared. He kicked his feet for Annabelle's attention, who let go of the wheel and grabbed Emilio by the back of the shirt. She yanked him off Indy's body and he went crashing into the steering wheel, jerking the vehicle again. Indy lunged for him and smacked his fist into his face. He grabbed the mauve shirt and yanked the man from Annabelle's lap.

Indy spotted her as he dodged a fist reach into her boot. She gestured towards the knife, one hand on the wheel , and slid it across the seat towards him. He used a free hand to grab the grip, the other he used to push the man away from him. Arms went flailing and Indy brought the knife between them. Emilio, previously about to attack, froze. He glanced at the knife, and then at Indy, a smile creeping across his face.

"Tell me where the Stone is," Indy growled, inching the knife towards Emilio's abdomen, "or you get a gutful of steel."

"You think I'm afraid of you?" Emilio laughed, "I fear no man. Only the Stone."

"Fear this!" Annabelle declared. She jerked the wheel right, sending both men toppling backwards.

Indy quickly realized he was leaving the truck, so he reached out of the frame of the truck. With one arm he seized it and his body weight pulled hard, making his arm burn with pain. He used his other to grab the bar handle, finding the running-board with his feet and stabling himself. Emilio, he noticed, was still in the Jeep. Annabelle's screams could still be heard.

"Indy!" she declared.

He rapped the roof of the cab twice and shouted, "I'm fine! Just DRIVE!"

Now in the truck bed, the jostling of the vehicle made it difficult to stabilize. Emilio had apparently decided to follow Indy into the back of the truck, for his mauve shirt flapped wildly in the wind around them. He smirked at Indy. "It's just me and you, Jones!"

"Just tell me where the Stone is, and no one will get hurt! Let's make this quick and painless!"

Emilio shook his head. "Not going to happen, my friend! The Stone belongs to the people, and the people the Stone. A simple arrangement!"

"It belongs _in a museum!" _Indy shouted, lunging for the man. He tackled him and they went sliding into the cab of the truck. Emilio grabbed his jacket and shifted his weight, slamming Indy's shoulders into the cab. They resonated with a bump and thunk, sending shocking waves of pain into his skull. Frowning, he raised his knees to his chest and pushed his boots into the man's chest, sending him across the bed of the truck. Indy flung himself forward and pounded his fist into Emilio's face, knocking him to the bed and straddling him. Quickly he searched the man and found no stone hidden on his person.

"The Stone, Perez!" Indy growled. "_Now!"_

* * *

_Annabelle_

Belle pounded her foot against the accelerator, the truck roaring though the foliage and vines, cutting a fine path of civilization through a once peaceful jungle. To her left Elena kept her Jeep right in line with the truck, checking out her window periodically. There was random thumps, thunks, and pounds as Indiana Jones continued wrestling with Emilio in the bed. Again, Belle mentally blocked the thousands of questions as to how Elena had met such a creature and failed to inform her about such a...man.

She eased off the gas, throwing the truck into a lower gear as it rumbled over a rough patch of decent sized rocks. Up ahead, she spotted a thick passage of dark green branches, with brown splotches poking in and out. She slowed again, noting the misplacement of color, and watched as a monkey scampered across the top of the trees. Her eyes widened and she hit the brakes with the clutch rather quickly and jerked the car to a stop. It slid across the loose leaves and gravel to a complete stop. She heard something klunk to her right, and noticed the radio dials pop off the dash.

"What on earth...?"

Elena and Alejandro flew out of the Jeep behind her, Alejandro into the bed of the truck and Elena to the cab. She threw open the passengers door, as Belle fumbled with the glove compartment. There was a loud slam on the hood of the truck, and Belle screamed, jerking her hands away the glove compartment and into her body. She grabbed the wheel and pulled herself up, watching as a flash of brown, tan, and mauve rolled off the hood of the truck and into the foliage. Elena popped open the door, and Belle twisted the knob and the door to the compartment dropped open.

"Belle! Let's move!" Elena demanded. Belle reached inside and wrapped her hand around a smooth, oblong object. She pulled it out and her eyes widened. She sat up and cradled the object with two hands.

"Perez, the Stone!" Indy hollered from the ground. "Where is it!?"

Elena's mouth dropped open. "It's..."

"It's the Stone," Belle whispered, awe conspiring to seize her heart.

It weighed roughly four or five pounds, was very smooth, and about the size of a grapefruit. It's deep blackness was intimidating, reminding her of an inky night sky, containing almost as much majesty as such a sky. It radiated as the sunlight hit it, casting a dark glow across her hands and pants. Her heartbeat picked up as she realized hundreds of years of mythology, expedition, hope, and money had gone into finding such a precious object. It began to get warm in her palms as the sunlight continued to pound into it. Breaking her trance, she stuffed it into her satchel and hopped out of the truck.

"There has to be guns around here," she whispered to Elena. Flipping the seats forward, she spotted a holster and a satchel and grabbed them. They were brown, beat up, as if they'd been used for years. There was skin on skin and both girls gave their attention to the front of the truck. Emilio had Alejandro by the shirt collar, and Indy was struggling to stand on the leafy terrain. Belle yanked the Webley from the holster and cocked it back.

"Alright!" she declared, running to the front of the truck. "That's enough, Emilio!" she thrust the gun in his direction, and he paid no attention. He turned about to charge Indy again, and Indy glanced at her. She took charge and pointed it to the sky, firing a shot into the air. That sent birds and monkeys screeching into action, away from the intruders. Emilio tripped forward out of surprise and Indy sent him to the ground. Belle approached him and pointing the gun to his skull. He buried his face into the dirt and Indy scowled at him. She cocked it again and knelt before him. They were silent for a few moments as she severely contemplated pulling the trigger and sending a bullet into his skull. She remembered all the people he'd killed, hurt, impoverished, violated and betrayed. She saw faces flash before her eyes-the people she'd encountered on her journeys that had suffered at his hand. Revenge boiled her blood and sent it pounding through her body, egging her on to do it. Her hands began to tremble and sweat trickled down her back before she pulled the gun back and handing it, as well as the satchel, back to Indiana Jones.

"Here," she whispered, "these are yours." Indy accepted them and slung the satchel over his shoulder. She stepped away from Emilio, and leaned against the tire of the truck, bending over and putting her hands on her knees. Adrenaline kept them shaking.

"Tie him up with whatever we have," Indiana explained, kneeling before her and clapping a hand over her left one. Elena rushed to the back of the Jeep as Alejandro kept Emilio pinned to the ground. Belle's shaking began to diminish and exhaustion slowly began to wash over her. She managed to look up as Indy gave her a lopsided half smile, then extended a hand to her. Alejandro shoved Emilio forward and began to secure him to a tree. Elena helped him and brutally tied up the man.

"Nice to meet you, under the circumstances," he chuckled.

She smiled at him and chuckled back. "Obliged," she shook his hand firmly. Elena and Alejandro approached them, as Indy began to march over to Emilio's direction. Elena stopped him by grabbing the sleeve of his bomber jacket and roughly brining him around.

"What?" he asked roughly.

Elena tossed a playful smile to Belle and headed towards the Jeep. Belle pulled open the top of her satchel and retrieved the Stone. His eyes widened as she rolled it over and over in her hands. She looked up at him and cocked her hip slightly.

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a roll of Argus C3 film. "I think this is yours," he said with a smirk, extending it towards her. She took it and placed the Stone gently in his hands, taking her film and placing it in her satchel.

"And I would say that's in good hands." She smiled at him brightly.

He nodded and headed towards the Jeep. Elena and Alejandro had armed themselves with water, Alejandro manning the driver seat of the truck. Elena handed a canteen to Belle, her uncorking it and took a long drink before handing it to Indy. He removed his hat and let the cool water run down his face and into his tossled brown hair. Tossing the empty jug into the back, he opened the passenger door and extended his hand politely to Belle, and she entered the vehicle. He closed the door with a light thunk, then made his way around the front of the Jeep. Climbing into the passenger side, he pressed in the clutch, started the car, and threw it into reverse. He whipped it around and back it up three feet from Emilio. He beamed at him and tipped his fedora to the man.

"Good luck, Perez. I'll say hello to the President for you." This threw Elena and Belle into a rage of laughter as he shifted into gear, lurching forward. Elena stuck her head between Indy and Belle's shoulders and sighed, eyes staring straight ahead to the road. She then sat back and Indy found a speed suitable for relaxation. He draped an arm over the back of the passenger seat, tipped his head back into place, and sighed.

"Ladies," he stated, "Let's go home."


End file.
